


Fairytale come true

by Anarion



Series: One-Shots [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Family, Fluff, Kissing, Love, M/M, Slash, fairytale, fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarion/pseuds/Anarion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Mycroft tells his children a fairytale that starts to interweave with real life</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairytale come true

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Random_Nexus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Nexus/gifts).



> Random_nexus wrote a fairytale (go read it [here](http://random-nexus.livejournal.com/212778.html)) and I thought it needed to be tied into BBC canon (um, well, my slashy canon at least *ahem*).

Mycroft was sitting in his living room in front of the fire, reading the newspaper. It was a cold winter afternoon and rain was splashing against the huge windows that looked out into a now barren garden.

Suddenly his solitude was interrupted by the sounds of running feet. A lot of them. Seconds later his three children barged into the room.

Sophie, the youngest, was clutching her teddy bear and Claire, the middle-born, was beaming at him in excitement.

“Daddy, daddy! Tell us the fairytale again, please!“

“What fairytale, sweetie?“

“The one about the baron and the soldier.”

His son Michael turned around to his sister.

“It's not a fairytale, stupid. It's family history.”

“What does that mean?”

“That it really happened.”

“Is that true, daddy?”

“Yes, that's true. And please don't call your sister stupid, Michael.”

Mycroft smiled as his children climbed into his lap and tried to each find a comfortable place for themselves. Then he began:

_“Once upon a time in a place very like, but other than here, there lived an extremely clever, handsome, often maddeningly stubborn younger son of a Baron. Observant and highly intelligent, he had a gift for noticing things no one else noticed, and for solving puzzles...“_

“That sounds a lot like uncle Sherlock, doesn't it?”

“Yes, that's true, Claire.”

“Can we name him Sherlock in the story then? I don’t like that he has no name.”

“If you like.”

All three heads bobbed in agreement. Michael, the thinker, frowned a little.

“Then we have to name his older brother too. He would be you, right?”

“Yes, since I am Sherlock’s older brother.”

Mycroft smiled down at his son and remembered how he and Sherlock had sat on _their_ father’s lap while he told them the story of the baron and the soldier.

Sophie nudged him with her tiny sharp elbow and he returned to the present and began his story again, this time with named characters:

_“Once upon a time in a place very like, but other than here, there lived an extremely clever, handsome, often maddeningly stubborn younger son of Baron Siger Holmes. This young man’s name was Sherlock Holmes. Observant and highly intelligent, Sherlock had a gift for noticing things no one else noticed, and for solving puzzles...”_

Little Sophie was fast asleep by the time the story came to an end, but the two older children were listening intently.

_““I’m sorry,” the soldier murmured again, fingers in Sherlock’s dark hair, kissing Sherlock’s cheek, his temple, and feeling his beloved’s lips graze his own face and the lobe of his ear as they pulled one another closer._

_“No, no more apologies, no more doubts,” insisted Sherlock. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”_

Mycroft finished the story and smiled down at his children, waiting for the usual complaint that he forgot the most important part. This time Claire had another question first.

“Why doesn’t the soldier have a name?”

“Because…”

“Because uncle Sherlock is all alone. There is no one we could name the soldier after.”

“Yes, Michael, that’s right.”

“Will he be alone forever?”

“I don’t know, darling. I really hope not.”

“Uncle Sherlock says that he prefers to be alone and that he doesn’t need anyone.”

“I doubt that he truly means that. Or maybe he does – for now.”

He watched them think about it for a few moments, then Michael protested, “We have to do the ending properly, dad. You did it wrong again.”

Ah, there it was.

“Say it with me, you know the words… **And they lived happily ever after.** ”

***

30 years later Michael sat down with _his_ children in his lap and he told them the story of Baron Mycroft, his younger brother Sherlock and a soldier named John Watson.

As all good stories it ended with the words **'And they lived happily ever after'.**

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd, so every mistake you find is mine.
> 
> 'An Almost Gravitational Pull' returns with a new 221B tomorrow! :)


End file.
